


yet we will make him run

by quillsand



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, Flowers, Fluff and Smut, Kissing, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff, but like mainly fluff, it's like smut but v low-key
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 11:08:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9721523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quillsand/pseuds/quillsand
Summary: "I'm capable of romance." Enjolras insists, jutting his chin out and crossing his arms over his chest. Before dating Enjolras, Grantaire was living under the assumption that 'adorable' and 'stubborn' were two mutually exclusive adjectives. Not anymore."Romance, maybe. But Valentine's day? Didn't think it was your thing, to be honest."Enjolras shrugs, looking sheepish. "I thought it might've been your thing." he admits after a while._____Enjolras and Grantaire's first Valentine's day as a couple.(ft. two lovestruck idiots, some flowers, a lot of kissing, and even more fluff.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> hey hi hello 
> 
> ok so i've never written anything more heated than a kiss so i don't really know what this is or what i'm doing but,,,,,, here
> 
> this started out as a cute 300 word drabble i have no idea what happened and i'm not sure if i should be sorry
> 
> enjoy !!! hopefully

"What's this?" Grantaire asks, bemused.

Enjolras smiles back at him from where he's stood in the hallway, looking far more hesitant than usual but still remaining determined outside Grantaire's door.

"Flowers." Enjolras says, awkwardly extending the arm holding said flowers out to Grantaire. "For you." he adds, as if that were a necessary clarification.

Grantaire blinks. "Thanks." he says, taking the flowers and examining them. Red chrysanthemums. His favourite. Whether it's because Enjolras specifically remembered or because he's been talking to Jehan about flower language- Grantaire can't quite contain the swell of affection that rises in his chest.

"You don't like them." Enjolras says, frowning. Which-what?

Grantaire looks back up, startled. Upon realising they're still stood in his doorway, he moves aside so Enjolras can come in properly, going to find a suitable container for the flowers whilst Enjolras hangs his scarf up on Grantaire's makeshift coat-rack.

"I do like them," he assures Enjolras, who turns to look at him with one eyebrow perfectly raised- Grantaire will forever wonder how he does it. "I just didn't expect anything from you, that's all." he shrugs, arranging the flowers evenly, because it's true. Enjolras' loathing of Valentine's day isn't exactly a secret amongst their friends; Grantaire hadn't allowed himself to imagine that would change just because they'd started dating.

The frown on Enjolras' face deepens. "I'm capable of romance." he insists, jutting his chin out and crossing his arms over his chest. Before dating Enjolras, Grantaire was living with the assumption that 'adorable' and 'stubborn' were two mutually exclusive adjectives. Not anymore.

"Romance, maybe. But Valentine's day? Didn't think it was your thing, to be honest."

Enjolras shrugs, looking sheepish. "I thought it might've been your thing." he admits after a while, offering Grantaire a wry smile. "I remember you got that girl you dated a few years ago a valentine's gift."

Grantaire doesn't even question how Enjolras remembers that; just stores it away as something to ask later. "Yeah, but. The whole capitalism aspect? Profiting off of social constructs that exploit people by dictating they spend money on partners as proof of their love?"

Now Enjolras looks genuinely troubled. He bites his lip, glancing back to the flowers. "They're from a local florist." he offers, only a tad defensively.

"They're nice." Grantaire says, and because it's always fun to see Enjolras in distress, but Grantaire doesn't _actually_  want his boyfriend to turn himself into a worrying mess over some flowers, he moves to cup Enjolras' jaw with his hand. "Thank you." he says, as earnestly as he can manage.

Enjolras smiles at him, the expression soft and beautiful across his features. "I don't buy into any of the societal expectations about today." he tells Grantaire solemnly. "I didn't get you flowers just because today is supposedly the one day I'm supposed to show how much I love you, as if I can't love you every other day of the year as well, because I do, Grantaire, I just-"

"Whoa, calm down, take a breath." Grantaire jokes, and gets a half-hearted glare in response.

"I just wanted to do something nice."

"You don't need to do anything nice for me, you know that."

"I wanted to." Enjolras repeats, moving closer, his eyes shining with such sincerity that Grantaire has to kiss him right now, he just _has_  to.

"Christ, I'm such a terrible boyfriend, I made you feel guilty about buying me flowers." Grantaire jokes when they part.

In all fairness, he really could do to stop making self-deprecating jokes around Enjolras. Even if they are (for the most part) jokes, Enjolras never seems to find them funny.

"Don't." he warns gently, pressing his lips to Grantaire's temple. "You're an amazing boyfriend, and I'll tell you as many times as you need to hear it."

"I didn't get you anything for Valentine's day," Grantaire reminds him, even as Enjolras trails kisses down his jaw. "Thought you hated it."

Enjolras just hums against Grantaire's neck, where he seems intent on leaving as many marks as possible. (Not that Grantaire's complaining, of course.)

"I love you." Enjolras mutters, mouth against Grantaire's pulse point, his fingers digging into Grantaire's hips.

"I- ah- love you too." Grantaire replies, gasping as Enjolras sucks yet another bruise into his neck. And whilst this is nice- no, scratch that, whilst this is _heavenly_ \- there's nothing Grantaire wants more than to feel Enjolras' lips against his again. Moving his hands to rest in Enjolras' hair, he gently tugs upwards until their mouths meet once more, much rougher than the languid kisses of earlier.

Enjolras hums into the kiss, and god, Grantaire loves that, loves how Enjolras is so responsive in letting Grantaire know what he enjoys. Lord knows Grantaire had needed the reassurance, especially in the earlier days of their relationship.

Enjolras drags his hands up to rest on Grantaire's shoulders, and Grantaire, in turn, places his own hands on Enjolras' hips, using his grip to pull their bodies closer together.

Enjolras pulls away from him after a few minutes, breathing heavily and bracing himself against Grantaire's chest. Grantaire moves his hands to rub circles on Enjolras' back, deliberately going lower and lower each time, until Enjolras is arching into the touch, moving impossibly closer to Grantaire and making an impatient noise in the back of his throat.

Grantaire chuckles against Enjolras' mouth. "Bedroom?" he suggests.

Enjolras' only response is to bite down on Grantaire's bottom lip, which Grantaire cleverly interprets as a 'yes' and maneuvers them so that Enjolras only has to keep walking backwards until they reach the bedroom door. _If_  they reach the bedroom door. (Which, let's be real, if Enjolras keeps doing that _thing_  with his teeth, is looking less and less likely as time goes on.)

Against all odds, they do indeed make it to the bedroom; Enjolras' legs bumping the back of the bed as he lets himself be pushed down, Grantaire kissing his way down Enjolras' neck, savouring the pleased noises Enjolras makes everytime Grantaire bites down on a sensitive spot.

It's not long until Enjolras is tugging at the hem of Grantaire's shirt, and Grantaire lets it be pulled up over his head, throwing it to the side (and ignoring Enjolras' sound of protest- really, they're going to be washed first anyway, what does it matter if he doesn't fold his clothes.)

Grantaire mimics Enjolras' movement, cursing the fact that his boyfriend wears button down shirts and fumbling his way through ridding him of the garment. Enjolras laughs lightly as Grantaire struggles to undo the final button so Grantaire shuts him up with a kiss, smiling all the while. Enjolras moans his appreciation as Grantaire moves his hands lower and works the button of Enjolras' jeans open, sliding them down his thighs before carelessly flinging them off the end of the bed.

"You're picking those up later." Enjolras tells Grantaire, trying to aim for serious. It doesn't really work, due to his red face and the noise he makes when Grantaire works his way back up Enjolras' body to kiss along his collarbone.

Grantaire is fine with picking up the clothes later if it means he gets to take Enjolras apart now.

Hurriedly divesting himself of his own jeans, Grantaire sits back on his heels to properly admire the sight before him. Enjolras raises his eyebrows as if to say _'Well? What are you waiting for?_ ' and Grantaire smirks.

This time, when he leans down to kiss Enjolras, Enjolras rolls his hips upwards to meet Grantaire's, causing them both to groan. Enjolras is holding his hands either side of his head, and even though he hasn't asked, it's a pretty clear indicator of what he wants, in Grantaire's opinion.

Gently, he brings one hand up to grip Enjolras' wrist. "Like that?" he asks, his voice all breath on Enjolras' lips.

"Mmmm." Enjolras responds, nodding.

"Use your words, Enjolras." Grantaire smirks whilst gripping Enjolras' other wrist, knowing full well that he's being a huge tease, but also knowing that Enjolras is  _loving it_.

Enjolras rolls his hips upwards once more, with more force this time, and Grantaire moans.

"That works too, I guess." Grantaire breathes out, and Enjolras looks far too smug. Damn him.

Grantaire goes back to kissing pathways up and down Enjolras' neck as their hips keep up a steady rhythm. It's not long until their movements become desperate, quicker yet messier, and Grantaire transfers both of Enjolras' wrists into one hand, tightening his grip as he brings his other hand down between them, feeling emboldened at Enjolras' low moan of _'Yes.'_

Many times of doing this has taught him exactly what kind of touch Enjolras likes, so it's only a matter of time before Enjolras is writhing underneath him, mutters of expletives and Grantaire's name leaving his lips like oaths. When Enjolras' hips stutter and all the air in his body seems to escape in one long, drawn out breath, Grantaire kisses him through it, letting go of Enjolras' wrists and massaging the skin there.

"Fuck, R." Enjolras breathes out eventually, dizzy and giddy in the aftermath. Grantaire smiles and kisses him lazily.

Just as Grantaire knows Enjolras, Enjolras also knows Grantaire, so when he reaches down and takes Grantaire into his hand, it's almost embarrassing how little time it takes for his own release to happen.

"Fuck." Grantaire agrees once he's gotten his breath back, moving so that he's laid next to Enjolras, their bodies pressed against each other from shoulder to knee.

"Happy Valentine's day, Enjolras." Grantaire says after a while, turning his head to press his lips to Enjolras' cheek.

"Happy Valentine's, Grantaire." 

**Author's Note:**

> so yeah. that's that. 
> 
> i hope you liked it and if you did (or didn't) please please please consider leaving a comment? like, feedback on this one would be rly appreciated- more so than usual lol
> 
> thanks for reading !!!
> 
> (title from andrew marvell's 'to his coy mistress' not bc i think it reflects this story in any way but just bc i rly like those last two lines and i had no idea what to put as a title)


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